


My Heart is a Pointe Shoe

by treeofworlds



Series: Choreograph Me a Love Song With Your Feet [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ballet AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:58:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treeofworlds/pseuds/treeofworlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren is struggling with a lift, and Levi calms him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Heart is a Pointe Shoe

**Author's Note:**

> Grand jete: a long jump which looks like the dancer is doing the splits in midair  
> Plie: Feet heel to heel and turned out, bend knees and rise back up  
> Fouette: like a pirouette but you rise up on one foot and then whip your leg around to generate movement  
> Pirouette: a spin with toes of one foot at the knee  
> Arabesque: dancer stands on one leg, bent at waist, leg extended behind them, hold position for a few seconds  
> Soutenu: series of very fast spins on one leg

“I can't do it.” 

Eren grumps, slumping against the mirrors and rubbing the aches out of his toes. “Who invented these? Why did they love pain?”

Levi scoffs and executes a lazy pirouette just for the hell of it.

“We'll get it, brat. Calm down.” He runs through his solo for act two while Eren calms down, making mental notes on areas where he's shaky still.  
They might have four months to get this performance perfect, but Levi is determined not to slack. The last ballet he performed in was nearly a bust. His partner broke her foot and someone new had to learn the part in only two months. Luckily, Petra is a phenomenal dancer, and very experienced, or they would have had to cancel the show.

Lowering himself from an arabesque, Levi stretches out a kink in his spine. The long practice is making Eren cranky, and Levi is only this mellow because one of his students nailed his showcase last night.

“Drink some water, stretch out, and dance with me, asshole.” He demands. Eren groans, but heaves himself off the floor and runs through some light stretches before downing half an evian.

Eren positions himself in the opening move, and Levi smacks at his stomach lightly.

“Oof. What was that for?” Eren sighs, well used to Levi's violent manner of friendship.

“Not the choreography, moron. Dance something you love.”

Eren stares.

“Huh?”

“Shut your mouth, brat, you're drooling.” Eren glares, but Levi stares him down. “Look you need to relax. You're trying to nail a lift that you hate because you have issues with it, and you're never going to get it if you force the matter. So dance something you love, relax, get this out of your head, and we'll try again in a bit, yeah?” He paces over to the stereo and picks a random track, then goes to get a snack from the vending machine down the hall, leaving Eren to wind down in peace.  
The kid needs it; he's good, but he pushes too hard, doesn't know when to back down. Levi isn't sure he even knows how.  
As he punches in numbers for the right snack (nothing unhealthy, he is in a ballet school, after all), he hears the music change to a thudding, pounding bass, and scoffs.  
Stupid brat and his fucking angry teen angst music.

He takes the short walk back to the studio slowly, giving Eren a chance to finish working out his stress on a different piece. Thankfully, as he reaches the door, the loud, harsh music softens to the lilting piano they've been given for the piece they're working on.

“Feel better?” He asks, scowling at his banana, which is bruised from its fall from the vending machine.

“Mm.” Eren starts a pirouette, and at the last minute turns it into a foutte, his leg whipping him around powerfully, and Levi reminds himself that he is absolutely not drooling at the kid's control.

Or his thighs.

“Ready to try this damn lift again?” Levi tosses his banana skin in the trashcan. Eren sighs.

“Fine. But if I fuck this one up, we're not trying it again. It's already half two in the morning, and I have class at eleven. I want eight hours, Levi.” He rolls his shoulders and groans.

Levi sets his feet into the basic position that this portion of the dance requires; one foot touching the other, heel to toe, and then raises his arms above his head elegantly. He doesn't need to look in the mirror for this, he's done it a thousand times, and he feels Eren settle into place beside him. The music starts when Eren presses a button through his pocket, and Levi performs a graceful plié, feeling Eren do the same. They rise into a balance move, legs up beside their heads in unison, and not for the first time, Levi marvels at the length of Eren's leg, rising up long and lean and muscled.

Eren moves away first, stepping neatly and they both execute a single arabesque before Levi leaps into a grand jeté while Eren does a soutenu.

And then Levi turns and runs towards Eren, who catches him, pulling him into a fast turn and then dipping him into a fish dive. Levi swings his legs up behind him, tucking one foot in near his knee. They hold the position for several seconds, before Eren straightens and sets Levi down carefully, one hand lingering on his waist before sliding away.

“Wow.” Eren grins. “We did it!” He does a ridiculous jump on the spot, and hauls Levi into a hug. The older man uncharacteristically lets the younger dancer manhandle him into showing affection, and even hugs Eren back, briefly revelling in the warmth of the kid against him.

“Yeah, well done, kid.” He says, once Eren lets him go.

Except they're standing close. Too close. And Levi sees an idea solidify in the kid's eyes and resigns himself to being hugged again.  
But Eren doesn't hug him. He strokes a thumb over Levi's cheek, making his heart thump irritatingly fast. He keeps brushing his thumb back and forth over Levi's cheekbone, slow and soft and fond. In the end, Levi gets impatient, yanking Eren down by the front of his t-shirt, despite the fact that it's soaked through with sweat, and kisses him. Thank fuck, Eren kisses him back.

They don't make it home until a lot later that night.

Eren doesn't get eight hours.


End file.
